Watching Heathers with my friends, one of whom, not ironically since that is the reason we chose the movie, is named Heather. We’ve all got the same dark sense of humor and the friend who hadn’t seen it yet really liked it. That makes me happy.
A day and a half off is not really enough. It’s just not. So I’m frustrated that we went shopping today even if it was a good chance just to walk around and daydream and be blank in my head, but this house needs to be cleaned. NEEDS. And I feel overwhelmed about it until I start writing it and it doesn’t seem so difficult to just toss a few things in the trash and pick up some stray shoes.
I think in my head I’m thinking that if I start that, I’ll start wanting to get myself together in other ways and the itch to do that will get worse and Christmas is coming and our fancy, decadent Christmas lunch is coming and I’m caught in the middle of all of it. Excuses, excuses. I am in the midst of looking backwards too, in remembering this time last year right before I started this project when there are not a lot of blog entries and certainly none here (I don’t think) about how keenly I needed to get a hold of myself and start dieting and living life the way I wanted to live it.
2010 was supposed to be the year of the tiger, the year of change, of ferocity in that regard. But what I’ve come to understand is that a year is a long time and that ferocity comes in waves and cycles. It has to be stoked like a fire with belief and practice. You stop doing one and you stop doing the other.
But there has been change this year. Big change. Big, booming, rad change. It’s just that spread out over three hundred and sixty-five days, it’s more like chump change. I traveled this year, I dated this year, I drank this year, I hung out with friends this year, I was an idiot a lot this year, I got brave in some respects and less so in others. I lost weight and gained it and exercised and blew it off. But I never stopped writing. Even on days when not writing felt like the only natural response I could have to the situation – not writing and curling up in bed and trying to white everything out. This habit, this one thing, is in my bones now. My sister and I talked yesterday about the unlikeliness of my cutting out fast food for a whole year. It is a huge thing. HUGE, nigh impossible, but I would have said exactly the same thing about doing this.
I have to keep thinking, and in the meantime, I’m getting myself ready for the fresh new year, push.
Nothing ever changes in my head unless I change my head. I give up, and the day deflates. I fight and doors open. You know what I mean as the winds roll in.